Page 52 of His Grip

“Tell me, Andrei,” Viktor sounded cold, dangerously calm, “how does it feel to sell your soul to the very man who wants to destroy everything I’ve built?”

Andrei smiled, that same smirk playing on his lips. “I didn’t sell anything, Viktor. I saw the truth. Alexei offers something you never could—real power. Not just scraps and empty promises.”

The words hit Viktor like a slap to the face. He wanted to scream, to strike Andrei down where he stood, but he had to maintain his stoic expression. The plan. The bigger picture.

“You’re a fool,” Viktor said quietly. But in that whisper, there was venom.

“I was a fool,” Andrei replied, his pitch increasing, “but I’m not anymore.”

Without warning, Viktor lunged. The sound of his fist connecting with Andrei’s face echoed in the room. Andrei staggered back, his nose bleeding, but the smirk didn’t fade. In fact, it only grew.

“You really think you can take me down that easily?” Andrei sneered, wiping blood from his lip. “You’re losing control, Viktor. And when you do, it’s over.”

The words were like a spark in dry tinder. Viktor didn’t think; he acted. His hands shot out, grabbing Andrei by the throat, lifting him off the ground with a strength that came from years of pent-up rage.

Andrei’s hands grasped at Viktor’s, trying to pry them away, but it was useless. Viktor was unyielding, his eyes blazing with fury. Andrei gasped, but Viktor didn’t release him. He needed him to feel the weight of betrayal. He needed to see Andrei understand what would happen when you crossed Viktor Ivanov.

“Tell me,” Viktor growled, “was it worth it? Was it worth losing everything?”

Andrei’s eyes shone with a mix of defiance and fear, but the fear was starting to show through. “You don’t get it, do you?” Andrei rasped, his breath shallow. “You’re the one who’s lost. You just don’t know it yet.”

Viktor’s fingers strained around his throat, his anger burning brighter. “You’re nothing. A traitor. A coward. And I’m going to make sure you regret this.”

And with that, Viktor slammed Andrei’s body to the ground. The force of the impact reverberated through the room, but Andrei was still breathing. Viktor wasn’t done.

His foot connected with Andrei’s side, the sound of bone cracking filling the space. Andrei groaned, his hand clutching at his ribs, but still, he didn’t beg. He didn’t plead. That was the worst part.

“You think you’re better than me,” Viktor said, his voice thick with disdain. “You think Alexei will save you? You’re just a pawn to him, Andrei. And when he’s done with you, you’ll be just as useless as you are now.”

Andrei’s laugh was weak, but it still carried an edge of spite. “I don’t need saving,” he whispered. “You’re the one who needs saving, Viktor. You’ve already lost. You just don’t know it yet.”

Viktor stood over him, breathing heavily, his fists clenched at his sides. Andrei had always been a dangerous man, but now he was a liability. And Viktor had no place for that in his world.

With one final, brutal blow, Viktor ended it. Andrei’s body went limp, crumpling to the ground like a ragdoll. Viktor took a deep breath, wiping the sweat from his brow, his anger slowly simmering down.

But there was no time for grief, no time for reflection. Viktor knew what had to come next.

He turned on his heel and walked out of the room, his mind already on the next move. Alexei would pay for this.

CHAPTER 21

Viktor

The abandoned warehouse smelled of dust and decay, the perfect setting for a battle that would determine the future of the Bratva. Viktor stood at the entrance, his fists clenched at his sides, his team positioned behind him. Every muscle in his body was coiled, ready to spring into action. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him, a final reckoning that would either end his war with Alexei or lead to his own damnation.

Alexei had been a constant thorn in his side, a threat he could never fully erase, but today that would change. Today, everything would be decided.

Viktor’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed the scene. His men were in position, ready to fight to the death if necessary. The battle was inevitable. Alexei had pushed him to the edge, and there was no turning back now. But somewhere deep inside, Viktor couldn't shake the feeling that this fight would change everything.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see a message from Sofia.

“It’s done. The accounts are wiped.”

A cold smile twisted Viktor’s lips. Sofia had come through. She had done her part, using the intel she gathered to cripple Alexei’s financial network. His empire, built on money and power, would collapse, and without it, Alexei would be nothing. Viktor had always known it would come to this—he had relied on Sofia’s resourcefulness to pull off the final blow.

But still, there was something gnawing at Viktor’s insides as he prepared to face Alexei. The information Sofia had gathered might be the key to ending this war, but it didn’t erase the fact that this confrontation would be one of blood and violence. He would kill Alexei. It was the only way to ensure his reign over the Bratva. But something in the back of his mind whispered doubts—doubts he refused to entertain.

No. Alexei has to die. There’s no other way.

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